hh, the Fall meeting. Those of you not attending really missed it. Or maybe you were there… incognito. A preliminary survey of the site and the weather report dictated that we abort putting up our megatent and move into the horse barn. Things got rolling Friday night with a call from Washington announcing the signing of the Grand Canyon Protection Act. What a way to start! We partied hard with Hopefully-Not-Leaving- But-Maybe-Hard-To-Say-Workman and turned the music up way too loud. We were well on our way, (well fed, well fortified, well well), when the rains came. Not the greatest camping weather but we all prevailed and resurfaced the next morning for some discussions about a variety of topics including updates about 1st aid, the new Navajo Bridge, the Michael Jacobs Award, Bat Towers, over-regulation, science, the future the Glen Canyon Environmental Studies and so on. Roger Clark and Jim Ruch of the Grand Canyon Trust stopped by and spoke about air traffic: where it’s going, what to do, who to write and such.

   Karen and Lanie from NAU Special Collections set up another Kolb photo identification session as we broke for lunch. Big fun.

   After sandwiches, Buster Quist provided a lively and insightful talk about health insurance, personal finance and the inevitability of utter financial disaster in these United States. A good reality check.

   Then on to the shitty situation for ’93. Some war stories from those who have already experimented under the new fecal guidelines, hands on with two of the new potties. With the crap finally behind us, we (washed our hands and) prepared for dinner and Halloween dementia.

   Bill Gloekler and his git down band fired up, with guest performances by several of the boatfolk, and the strange costumed creatures began to crawl from the woodwork: calculators, monsters, m&m’s and a giant green chili; a chain sawed logger, a ski-skewered ski repairman, and innumerable masked marauders; a six or seven person Lava Falls, complete with Vulcans Anvil, the bubble line, the ledge hole, the v-wave, the black rock, (with wrecked dory), and the tail waves. And then there was Lady Godiva… somewhere along the way, Godiva must have gotten into the steroid bottle, because when (s)he did that wild strip tease there was an uncanny resemblance to Bob Gruse’s evil twin sister.

   Sunday morning brought frozen solid water buckets, a lot of coffee and aspirin, and a slow up-picking of detritus, including many pieces of the exploded v-wave, scattered about by those wreaking revenge for past wrongdoings.

   Thanks to all who attended, the ground troops who made it work, and especially to the Schniewind clan for having us all. See you in the spring!